A Struggle For Rome Volume Ii Part 12

In vain had Totila repeatedly and earnestly begged Valeria to fly in one of these ships, under the protection of Julius; she would not yet leave the tomb of her father; she would not part from her lover, whose praise as protector of the city she was only too much delighted to hear proclaimed by all voices.

So she continued to reside in her old home in the city, indulging in her sorrow and in her love.

CHAPTER III.

It was at this time that Miriam experienced the greatest joy and the keenest sorrow that she had ever known.

She could sun herself more frequently than ever in the presence of the man she loved, for the Porta Capuana was an important point of the fortifications, and Totila was obliged to visit it often. He daily held conferences with Earl Uliaris in old Isaac's tower.

At such times Miriam, when she had greeted the guests, and served the simple meal of fruit and wine, used to slip into the narrow little garden which lay close under the walls of the tower.

This place had been, originally, a small court belonging to an ancient Temple of Minerva, the "wall-protectress," to whom altars had been gratefully erected at the princ.i.p.al gates of various towns.

The altar had disappeared centuries ago, but the gigantic olive-tree, which had once shaded the statue dedicated to the G.o.ddess, still stretched its boughs aloft, while flowers, cherished by Miriam's loving hand, and which she had often plucked for the bride of the man whom she hopelessly loved, filled the air with perfume.

Exactly opposite the tree, whose knotted roots protruded from the earth, disclosing a dark opening in the ground-floor of the old temple, there had been placed a large black cross, and below it a little praying stool, which was made out of one of the marble steps of the temple.

The Christians loved to subject the remains of the ancient worship to the service of the new, and to drive out the old G.o.ds, now become demons, by the symbols of their victorious faith.

The beautiful Jewess often sat for hours under this cross with old Arria, the half-blind widow of the under doorkeeper, who, after the early death of Isaac's wife, had, with motherly love, watched little Miriam bloom together with her flowers amid the desolate ruins of the old walls.

Twice a day did Uliaris and Totila thus meet; reporting their losses or successes and examining the probability of saving the city.

But on the tenth day of the siege, before dawn, Uliaris hastened on board Totila's "admiral" ship, a rotten fishing-boat, and found the commander sleeping on deck, covered by a ragged sail.

"What is it!" cried Totila, starting up and still dreaming; "the enemy?

where?"

"No, my boy; this time it is again Uliaris, and not Belisarius, who awakens thee. But, by the Thunderer! this cannot last much longer!"

"Uliaris, thou bleedest! thy head is bandaged!"

"Bah! 'twas but a stray arrow! Fortunately no poisoned one. I got it last night. Thou must know that things are at a bad pa.s.s; much worse than ever before. The b.l.o.o.d.y Johannes--may G.o.d slay him!--digs under our Castle Tiberius like a badger, and if he gets _that_--then farewell, Neapolis! Yester even he finished a battery upon the hill above us, and now he throws burning arrows upon our heads. I tried last night to drive him out of his works, but it was no use. They were seven to one against us, and I gained nothing by it but this wound on my grey head."

"The battery must come down," said Totila reflectively.

"The devil it must! but it will not! I have still more to tell. The citizens begin to get unruly. Belisarius daily shoots a hundred blunt arrows into the city, to which is tied the inscription: 'Rebel for freedom!' They have more effect than a thousand pointed darts. Already, here and there, stones are cast from the roofs upon my poor fellows. If this goes on--we cannot, with a thousand men, keep off forty thousand Greeks outside and thirty thousand Neapolitans inside. Therefore I think--" and his eyes looked very gloomy.

"What thinkest thou?"

"We will burn down a portion of the city--at least the suburbs----"

"So that the inhabitants may like us all the better? No, Uliaris, they shall not have cause to call us 'barbarians.' I know of better means--they are starving; yesterday I brought in four shiploads of oil, com, and wine; this I will divide amongst them."

"Oil and corn if thou wilt! But not the wine! That I claim for my Goths. They have drunk cistern-water long enough, the nasty stuff!"

"Good, thirsty hero, you shall have the wine for yourselves."

"Well? and still no news from Ravenna, or from Rome?"

"None! Yesterday I sent off my fifth messenger."

"May G.o.d destroy our King! Listen, Totila, I don't believe we shall ever get alive out of these worm-eaten walls."

"Nor I either," said Totila quietly, and offered his guest a cup of wine.

Uliaris looked at him; then he drank and said:

"Dear fellow! thou art pure as gold, and thy Caecubian too. And if I must die here, like an old bear amongst the dogs--I am at least glad that I have learned to know thee so well; thee and thy Caecubian."

With this rough but friendly speech the grey old Goth left the ship.

Totila sent corn and wine to the garrison in the castle, with which the soldiers regaled themselves far into the night.

But the next morning, when Uliaris looked forth from the tower of the castle, he rubbed his eyes. For on the battery upon the hill waved the blue flag of the Goths.

Totila had landed in the night in the rear of the enemy, and had taken the works by storm.

But this new act of audacity only increased the anger of Belisarius. He swore to make an end of the troublesome boats at any price. To his great joy the four triremes from Sicily just then appeared in the offing. Belisarius ordered that they should at once force their way into the harbour of Neapolis, and spoil the handiwork of "those pirates." On the evening of the same day the four immense ships cast anchor at the entrance of the harbour. Belisarius himself visited the coast with his followers, and rejoiced at the sight of the sails, gilded by the evening sun.

"The rising sun shall see them inside the harbour, in spite of that bold youth," he said to Antonina, who accompanied him, and turned his dappled-greys back to the camp.

The next morning he had not yet left his camp-bed--Procopius was standing near him, reading the sketch of a report to Justinian--when Chanaranzes, the Persian, the leader of the body-guard, entered the tent, and cried: "The ships, general! the ships are taken!"

Belisarius sprang from his couch in a rage.

"He dies who says it!"

"It would be better," observed Procopius, "that he should die who did it!"

"Who was it?"

"Oh, sir, the young Goth with the sparkling eyes and shining hair!"

"Totila!" exclaimed Belisarius, "Totila, again!"

"The crew were lying, partly on sh.o.r.e with my outposts, partly on deck, sound asleep. Suddenly, at midnight, all around became as lively as if a hundred ships had risen out of the sea."

"A hundred ships! Ten nutsh.e.l.ls!"

"In a moment, long before we could come to their help from the sh.o.r.e, the ships were boarded, the crews taken prisoners, one of the triremes, whose cable could not be cut quickly enough, set on fire, and the others towed off to Neapolis!"

"Your ships have entered the harbour sooner than you expected, O Belisarius," observed Procopius.

But Belisarius had recovered his self-control.